Page 23 of Recklessly, Wildly Yours

It’s essentially an anthem for women. The singer is telling herself and other women to embrace themselves. That all the confusion in a world full of comparison is natural but that they don’t have to put up with this any longer. It’s a song about the acceptance of imperfection.

“I’ve had “Girl” on repeat for months,” she admits when the song ends.

“Who’s the singer?”

“Maren Morris.”

“Great lyrics.” I meet her gaze. “Honest lyrics.”

“I want to write lyrics like that.”

“You don’t already?”

“No. Well, yes...but I’ve kept them to myself. Actually, they’re more like scribbled journaling than lyrics...” Her voice trails off and I get the impression there’s a lot here for her to unpack about her work. But then, I think that’s the lot of a creative person. There’s a great deal of unpacking about our place in the world, what we actually have to say, what we want to say, and whether there will be acceptance of it.

Maddie finds my gaze again, more hesitation in her eyes. “This has been on repeat too,” she says softly, and I know she’s sharing a vulnerable piece of herself with me when another song comes on from the same singer. It’s a cover of “Dancing With Myself” that Billy Idol originally sang. Maren Morris’s version is slower, quieter. It feels more introspective. I think that for Maddie it speaks to not only her love life but also her career.

When it ends, we sit in silence for a long while before I turn to her. “You have over twenty million followers on Instagram. I wonder how many of them would kill to dance with the real Maddie? I bet it’s more than you might think.”

“You looked me up?” She’s wide-eyed.

“No. Sasha was all about you yesterday during the wedding photos. And now I have no need to look you up. Sasha has ensured I have all your stats stored in my head.”

A laugh busts out of her. “Oh, god. That’s a lot.”

“Based on my conversation with her, I’d say she’s a superfan.”

“Most of those twenty million come from Tucker. I don’t know how many of them are really there for me, you know?”

We’re interrupted when a string of texts come through on her phone. I give her the space to check them and focus back on the highway. A few minutes later, I spot a gas station and pull in.

As I cut the engine of my Range Rover, Maddie finishes texting and places her phone back in the center console. “Sorry about that. Leigh’s having issues with my manager.” She looks pained when she adds, “He’s threatened her career if she doesn’t give him my new phone number.”

“No need to apologize. You’ve gotta handle your business. Is Leigh okay?”

“Yes, she’s not the kind of person to let threats get to her, but I hate that I’ve put her in this position. I’ve just texted Darren to take the pressure off her, so I imagine he’ll start blowing up my phone any second now.”

“You want me to take over the management of your phone?”

She laughs. “I can only guess what you’d say to him.”

“Try me and see.”

She inhales a long breath before releasing it. “I’m so glad you forced your way into this road trip. You’re helping take my mind off everything.”

“Forced is highly inaccurate.”

She tilts her head questioningly. “Bossed?”

“Let’s agree that I came along because I wanted to get to know you. I also didn’t want you to end up in your very own version of Misery.”

“What’s that?”

“The movie where an author is held captive by a fan. It’s a Stephen King thriller. How have you never heard of it? How have you never watched it?”

“I don’t do thrillers. Or horror movies.”

“This is our second bump in the road.”

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